Black and Blue
by Spider Baby-Firefly
Summary: "Tch. Young Master Sebastian is quite a handful, but it is only natural that the Michaelis butler can handle such nuisances." Ancient demon Ciel Phantomhive is understandably cold and jaded, but his new employer seems intent on breaking through his walls.
1. Black

**Hullo, lovelies :) I'm sure this idea has been done to death, but hopefully my take on it stands out a bit. The plotbunny bit onto my leg and wouldn't let go. There will be a part two of this, but that will be it. Please enjoy and review! Also, if you like this, I encourage you to check out my other Kuroshitsuji project, "Till the Clock Strikes," and all my many oneshots. **

**OoO**

The party was going brilliantly, but of course, all of Sebastian's parties did. The Michaelis heir, while only thirteen, was nothing if not an entertainer; with his quick wit, rakish beauty, and abundant charm, the boy could bend almost anybody to his will and earn the affections of women twice his age. Og course, this little gathering was merely a dinner party that Sebastian had coordinated for his grandfather—the current Duke of Michaelis—and his ancient friends. Very boring so far, but Sebastian knew that that was all about to change in a moment or two, as soon as Ciel came along with the desserts…

_Speak of the devil_, Sebastian thought as he heard the delicate clink and rattle of silverware on a rolling cart.

"Panna Cotta is a traditional Italian dessert made from gelatin, vanilla, and spices. It has been prepared with imported chocolate and hazelnuts," a voice as cool and smooth as glass rolled through the dining room like an arctic breeze, "to be served with amaretto coffee."

As the cups, saucers, and plates of quivering dessert were set down at each placemat, guests cooed over the peculiar concoction—chilled and viscous rather than their accustomed baked goods. Sebastian glanced briefly at the dolled-up hags clutching their pearls and fat old men dabbing left over puttanesca sauce from their lips, but mostly he kept his eyes on the one serving the final course—his butler, Ciel Phantomhive. Ciel was a source of great interest to all assembled, for he'd appeared so suddenly at Sebastian's side several months ago and had remained silent, grim, and mysterious ever since. The young man's looks only added to the curiosity: hair and eyes the unlikely color of lapis lazuli and a beauty that was almost ethereal made it quite obvious that the man did not come from Bohemia, and for all anyone knew of him, he may very well have been sprung from sea foam.

Now, as Ciel came to stand behind Sebastian's chair, the boy swiveled around to look curiously at his butler. The Italian themed dinner had been Sebastian's plan to begin with, his intention being to infuse dreary old Prague with a bit of warmth and passion, and Ciel had promised to take care of all the rest. Though he must have felt his master's gaze, Ciel's face remained impassive. Sebastian sipped his coffee gingerly, but impatience was welling up within him.

He did not have to wait long, though, because the coughing started just seconds later. Not to Sebastian, of course, but his guests. Sebastian looked up now, rapt, as the lords and ladies around him went from hacking to gagging to choking in a matter of moments, clawing desperately at their sagging throats as their wrinkled faces turned blue. Then, Sebastian tilted his head back and laughed, musical peals pouring forth from his throat as his companions asphyxiated.

"It's like a symphony," Sebastian sighed happily to his butler, and while Ciel said nothing, there was a smirk to his lips. A few moments passed, and the guests were face down in their unfinished panna cotta. A broad crescent of a smile lit Sebastian's fine-boned face as he motioned to the chair beside him with a flourish. "Ciel, please sit down."

It was an invitation, but one that Ciel had no choice but to accept. He slid easily into the chair, letting the previous occupant's corpse slither to the ground. While Sebastian finished his coffee and sweet, Ciel caressed the now empty tea-cup and took delicate sips of air from its gilded rim. He pretended not to notice the looks his inquisitive young charge was slanting at him.

Sebastian endeavored to create moments like these, where he and Ciel were almost equals—neither master and servant, nor predator and prey, nor demon and human. It was…novel, and Ciel had this way about him that fascinated Sebastian. Ciel was not some savage beast, as one might imagine, and he seemed at times to be nothing more than a refined, interesting, and absurdly attractive young nobleman who Sebastian would like to get to know. Most of the time, though, he was just a cold bastard.

"You know, when I smelled the almond," Sebastian started, taking a deliberate sip of coffee, "I thought for a minute that you'd decided to poison me too."

Ciel snorted, "As though I would be that stupid about it."

"Just a passing thought," Sebastian waved his hand dismissively, "though I'm sure it crossed your mind."

"Little Master," Ciel turned grave sapphire eyes to Sebastian's impish rubies, "there are some days when I desire nothing more than to season your dinner with an arsenic demi-glaze."

At this, the black-haired boy laughed again with real mirth. "You amaze me sometimes, Ciel," he murmured, long lashes drooping to trap his crimson orbs behind black bars, "like before. Brilliant, the cyanide. I feel like I ought to reward you somehow."

"Don't say ridiculous things," Ciel responded promptly, and Sebastian was both comforted and disappointed by his servant's characteristic iciness. Whether Sebastian's intention was to earnestly commend his butler or manipulate him, neither of them really knew. A bit of both, probably.

Sebastian looked down at the half-eaten panna cotta and noted that Ciel was cutting his into precise little squares to tremble, unmoved, on his plate. Silverware flashed in the candlelight as Ciel's hands hovered back and forth over the plate, as regular and mesmeric as ocean waves. With his peculiar coloring and striking beauty, the man appeared to be something out of a fairytale. If those Cupid's bow lips would only stop scowling, and those delicately chiseled features soften, he would look just like an angel. That, Sebastian thought with a smirk, was truly ironic. Looking at those apathetic eyes, blue and cold as the Nordic fjords, Sebastian couldn't help but remember the first time he'd seen them.

_Once upon a time—though it was less than a year ago—Sebastian Michaelis had finished up with his tutor and gone to natter off astronomy facts to his grandfather. Grandfather was sleeping, his journal lying open on his chest. Sebastian was a curious child. He crept into the room. Now, good boys did not steal things, and good boys did not invade others' privacy, but Sebastian had never been that good, so he didn't care._

_Absconded in his room with the journal in his lap, Sebastian realized something terrible: his grandfather was completely mad. By decoding the cursive scrawl, the boy learned that Grandfather blamed him for the recent death of Sebastian's parents—still a sore sting in his young heart—and that he believed Sebastian had similar plans for his current guardian. Grandfather intended to assassinate Sebastian within the year._

_It was then that Sebastian bolted from his ancestral mansion, shock, grief, and fury stinging his throat and eyes. Down through a labyrinth of cobbled streets he ran, past main squares full of merchants and street performers and through alleys where swarthy men hawked absinthe. In Josefov, Sebastian stopped, breathing hard. He was an athletic boy, so his exhaustion signified miles of covered distance. There were no people around, thank God, so Sebastian could let his eyes hemorrhage their bitter tears at last. Through the crystal haze of salt, Sebastian saw a black cat approach him from the shadows. For a moment, Sebastian's tears stopped because the creature was just so…_

"_Beautiful," he'd murmured, watching how the feline's movements seemed to melt into each other, smooth as shadows. When the little beast neared, Sebastian plucked it up and clutched it to his chest, burying his face in the silken fur. He sank to his knees—bare beneath his knickerbockers and bruised by the gravel—and murmured out his anguish to the cat, which lay quietly in his arms. When Sebastian finished, he felt a low purr vibrate against his shoulder, and then his hands were empty._

_Sebastian blinked, startled and noticed a shadow blotting out the then-Summer sun. The figure of a man loomed before him, with eyes and hair the color of afternoon sky._

"_I have a…business proposition for you."_

Now, in the murky pool of his coffee, Sebastian could swear he saw those luminescent blue eyes reflected for the barest of instants. A shiver flew up the boy's spine, but he shook it off. Enough lolling about. With one fluid movement, Sebastian jumped up onto the tabletop. If Ciel was surprised, he didn't show it. The cerulean-haired demon merely stood and walked parallel to his master as Sebastian strode down the expanse of black oak, graceful as dance. The click of Sebastian's heeled boots echoed through the cavernous room until he reached the opposite end, where his grandfather's withered form slumped.

"It's poetic, in a way," Sebastian muttered. It struck him funny that his grandfather's prediction had in fact come true, but only because of the geezer's own actions. With baited breath, Sebastian slid the ruby ring from the old man's gnarled digit and slipped it over his thumb, for his own fingers were still too slender. It was official: he was now Duke Sebastian Michaelis.

"That's check, Master," Ciel said lowly, and there just might have been a glimmer of approval in his sapphire eyes as he held out a hand to the boy.

Sebastian smiled as laced his fingers with Ciel's to hop from the table, "But you promised…"

"I will be yours until checkmate," the demon reaffirmed with a nod.

"And you wouldn't go back on your promise." Sebastian didn't know how, but he felt this to be true.

"Never."


	2. Blue

**Second and final part :) I'm considering writing a sort of companion to this where Ciel and Sebastian's roles are the same, but their ages are still switched, so Adult!Master!Ciel and Shota!Butler!Sebastian; Ciel would be a human whose wife and kids were killed, and this would be Sebastian's first contract as a demon. Either that, or a follow-up to "Misadventures in Babysitting," another Kuroshitsuji fic I wrote. Tell me what you think in a review, and, as always, enjoy :)**

**OoO**

"It is past your bedtime, Little Master," Ciel said, though he didn't really care; he would be waking Sebastian up at dawn regardless of how little sleep the boy got.

"This will only take a moment or two," Sebastian insisted as he flitted from the dining room to the parlor beside his servant, "I…want to be part of this."

"Tch," Ciel locked eyes with the boy, and a little grin traced itself upon his lips, "revenge is sweet, isn't it, Little Master?"

"Oh yes," Sebastian said as he singled out the chintz couch right in front of the floor-to-ceiling fireplace. "Ah, it's hot in here."

Under Ciel's nimble fingers, the buttons of Sebastian's black ruffled vest flew apart, and the article fell from the boy's body to settle on the floor in a pile of dark frills. Much better. He rolled his shoulders and stretched out on the floral-print couch. Before the roaring fire, Ciel systematically dismembered Grandfather's body. Hands to wrists to arms and so on with procession cracks and squelches like cicadas in summer time. Music to Sebastian's ears. The warmth, the late hour, the pleasant buzz of satisfaction lulled the thirteen-year-old into a trance. He closed his eyes, long lashes coyly brushing his high, Slavic cheekbones. As Sebastian relaxed, the loose silk of his scarlet tunic slipped to one side, revealing an expanse of milky chest and shoulder. Ciel glanced over at his little lord and couldn't help but admire the view. Sebastian's legs—long and shapely as a woman's in black leggings and boots that came well past the knee—dangled askew, and his broad lips were slightly parted, as though awaiting a kiss. That was Sebastian, all unconscious sensuality...or maybe he was completely aware. Impossible to tell with that boy, human or no; perhaps that was why he intrigued and frustrated the typically emotionless demon.

"Ciel," Sebastian roused himself, cracking his claret eyes slightly, "my report."

Ciel considered, and Sebastian waited, tingling with anticipation. This was one of the boy's favorite things, when Ciel would cast a judgment on Sebastian's behavior. The demon always spoke frankly, on several occasions replying, "dreadful." This time, however, Ciel grudgingly said, "You've done admirably…for a little beast such as yourself."

"Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" Sebastian smirked, satisfied. He was mischievous by nature, but if he was good for Ciel, then the demon would reward him. "So you will play for me tonight?" He was referring to the violin, but recently, Sebastian had started considering other ways Ciel could perform. Of course, he kept those thoughts well in his head.

"I suppose," Ciel grumbled.

"And tomorrow, we can do more alchemy? Or runes?" Sebastian pursued eagerly. Ciel also rewarded Sebastian by allowing the boy to forgo teachings in Grammar or Math in favor of candid lessons on more arcane arts. Imagine—to be learning magic from a demon! But Sebastian _also_ thought about other things Ciel could _teach_ him.

"Don't count on it," Ciel warned as he tossed the last piece of the human puzzle—Grandfather's head—into the fire, reducing the previous Duke of Michaelis to charcoal dust. "You hardly deserve any prize."

"So cold, my demon is," Sebastian muttered as he eased up from the couch. When Ciel moved to stand beside him, Sebastian felt a surge of pleasure in realizing that, with the heels of his boots, he almost came to the man's chin. Sebastian was growing, as well as developing wiry muscles to complement his lean body; Ciel would soon have to realize that he was no longer a child.

Yes, soon. Sebastian was confident in his ability to get what he wanted out of the demon. Ever since he was a babe, Sebastian cast a curious enchantment over people, and while Ciel seemed thus far immune, it was only a matter of time and perseverance. How did all this start, this unexpected fascination? It must have been that day, just a week or so after the contract was made.

"_You'd best not be having second thoughts," the slender demon raised his eyebrows at Sebastian._

"_Oh no, nothing like that," Sebastian said, keeping his voice light, "It's just a bit annoying to be considered nothing more than __**food**__."_

_Despite his intentions, Sebastian's tone darkened several shades, and his nails dug into the flesh of his palm._

"_Hm. Too bad for you," Ciel smirked. The demon was lounging upon an armchair in a distinctly un-butler-like fashion._

"_How are you supposed to help me then," Sebastian hissed in an uncharacteristic fit of ire, "if you don't even give a damn about me?"_

"_Are you doubting me, child?" Ciel's cobalt eyes were dead-serious as they pierced Sebastian's._

"_Oh no, of course not," Sebastian said with a tight smile, making it clear that the opposite was true._

_In a motion to fast to track, Ciel was kneeling before Sebastian, conviction traced in every line of his face as he regarded his master. "As long as your heart beats, your goals are my duty. As a butler of the Michaelis family, I swear this on my honor."_

"_Demons have honor, do they?" Sebastian inquired, but there was little mockery in his tone._

"_No," Ciel replied curtly, and Sebastian laughed. Ciel might have even smiled, just a bit._

It was then, in that oddly warm moment that began their skewed relationship in earnest, that Sebastian felt it—a pull that Ciel possessed, not unlike those of the heavenly bodies. Ciel was spectacularly interesting, more so than anybody Sebastian had ever encountered, and Sebastian longed to solve the complicated enigma that the demon butler presented. _And I will_, Sebastian thought, determined, as he left the parlor with Ciel at his side.

After ascending the stairs, the pair did not take their accustomed turn toward Sebastian's room, but instead entered the one he'd recently inherited from poor, ashy Grandfather. The chamber was red as the inside of a ruby, and the bed covers were outfitted in sumptuous black silk. Sebastian had to grin; all this was his now. Happily, he perched on the side of the enormous canopy bed and lifted one leg gracefully into the air, then the other as Ciel removed each boot. Tunic and leggings came off, and Sebastian was dressed in his grandfather's owl down robe, heavy but warm against his supple body.

As Sebastian stroked the fabric appreciatively, Ciel said, "all according to plan, then, Little Master, is that it?"

"I'll have my revolution," Sebastian smiled his agreement, "with all those old nobles dead, we'll have a new generation in power. Blood and violence and chaos, and something beautiful coming out of it."

"Naive," Ciel rolled his cyanide eyes, "when humans start destroying, they never can stop themselves."

"You'll see," Sebastian insisted, "industry, culture, a world where old codgers don't try to destroy their own grandchildren…it'll work."

_And then you'll be impressed with me, Ciel, I know._

"Well. It'll be interesting, I suppose," Ciel muttered, obviously not believing his young master. Of course, it would be amusing when the boy's illusion came crashing down, and if Sebastian was right? Well, then Ciel had underestimated this human child. Only time would tell, and Ciel had all the time in the world.

"Won't you play for me now, Ciel?" Sebastian asked, saccharine.

"What would you like to hear?" the butler sighed, resigned.

"'Flight of the Bumblebee.' With your eyes closed," Sebastian beamed. It wasn't a very unique piece, but he loved watching Ciel play it. Sometimes, the demon got ahead of himself on the human instrument, and the music blurred into an unholy squeak accompanied by spirals of smoke.

As the manic rhythm of Korsakov-Rimsky's masterpiece buzzed around Sebastian's head, he settled back against the pillows, occasionally humming his approval at Ciel's flawless playing. All too soon, it was over, and Ciel was asking in long-suffering tones, "is that all?"

It wasn't. Hell, Sebastian didn't even want to _sleep—_not after a night like this. "This bed," The boy said at length, "is far larger than I'm used to."

"And?" Ciel demanded, impatient.

"You will sleep in it with me," Sebastian said matter-of-factly.

"Ha!" Ciel made a sound that was half disbelief and half mockery. All the same, he sat down on the bed beside Sebastian. The teenager did not address his butler's confusion; he just made himself comfortable and prepared to go to sleep, when,

"It is delicious, isn't it?" Ciel's lips at the shell of Sebastian's ear, "revenge."

Sebastian's eyes flew open to meet Ciel's own, which were glowing hellish carmine in the dark. Something had been triggered in the man: the butler was gone, and the demon was out to play.

"Yes," Sebastian replied steadily, but his breath hitched as he regarded his servant's slitted pupils.

"Not as delicious, though" the new Ciel murmured with a smile that held a touch of madness, "as you, Little Master."

Sebastian's body was not shivering in fear, but vibrating from something altogether different. _This_ was what he'd been waiting for. He forced himself to remain still as Ciel's black-gloved fingers brushed long, raven bangs behind Sebastian's ear, revealing the pale blue contract mark branded upon the boy's temple. The pentacle glowed faint cyan under the demon's touch, and Sebastian felt a powerful but not-unpleasant burn upon his marked skin. Then, the tip of Ciel's tongue flickered, snakelike, against the damning, luminescent circle. Sebastian's eyes closed at the warm, moist touch, but the sensation was gone in an instant.

Seconds passed, with Sebastian working at controlling his breathing and not daring to look his butler in the eye. He was flustered, yes, but also annoyed. _Why do you always have to be so stubborn? So cold? Why can't you just stop playing and give me what I crave?_

"At least _try_ to sleep, master-of-mine," Ciel muttered with a rueful quirk of the lips, "I will be irritated if you're too tired for Occult Studies tomorrow."

The lesson felt like a consolation prize to Sebastian, but he supposed it best to take it. Perhaps he was playing with fire, trying to drag out his butler's demon side, but that only made it more exciting. "Ciel," the boy murmured as he burrowed under the covers, "how do I taste anyway?"

From the other side of the bed, Ciel said nothing. Left alone with his sinful thoughts, Sebastian drifted off in just moments.

**OoO**

Like dark chocolate, that was how Sebastian tasted. Bittersweet; complex; _satisfying_. Of course Ciel had heard his master's question, but he refused indulge this particular whim. After all, Sebastian was a child of caprice, and Ciel would not be caught up in the web the boy wove, without even trying, around everyone he met. Ciel was a glacier, chilled and hardened by time, and Sebastian was a dancing lick of flame—small, insignificant, bound to be snuffed out. At least, that was what Ciel told himself, when really, this fire fledgling was melting the demon's frosted heart, little by little.

Once the raven-haired boy was lost to his dreams, Ciel slipped from the bed, soft and silent as twilight. He lit a candle stick with the flick of a finger—purely out of habit, he told himself, but really the firelight was beautiful dancing over Sebastian's sleeping face. By the door, Ciel spared one last glance at his master, deceptively innocent-looking in his slumber.

"Out out, brief candle," Ciel murmured with a tiny smirk before puffing on the small flame and retiring to his chamber for the evening. Tomorrow was to be another long day's work for the Michaelis butler.


End file.
